


Somnophilia

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Shower Sex, Somnophilia, Top Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:23:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13489074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: When Harry sees Draco sleeping in the Hospital Wing, he's struck by the strange desire to have him.





	Somnophilia

**Author's Note:**

> The very first sexual scene could be considered dubious consent, but I don't think it'll trigger anyone when read in context. After that, consent is always very clear :-)

Here again, ugh...

Coming back for an Eighth Year had been a good idea in general, but I had rather hoped to stay out of the Hospital Wing. However, Headmistress McGonagall had practically insisted that I restart the DA, and so – during one meeting – one of the Fifth Year girls was practicing a first aid charm and... Well, it went horribly wrong.

Once upon a time ago, an incompetent Professor named Lockhart tried to heal my broken arm, only to make all the bones in it disappear instead. The exact same thing happened, except I didn't have any broken bones to begin with and I wasn't the intended recipient of the charm. I just so happen to distract the caster as I walked behind her practice partner and she got me by accident.

So now, here I am, lying in a bed in the hospital wing, waiting for my arm to regrow all its bones once again. It's pretty painful, but I think I must be used to pain by now since it's just annoying rather than hurtful. Then again, Madam Pomfrey probably gave me something for the pain. Last time, I slept through most of it. This time, I wish I had something to do while I waited.

The door opened and I hastily magicked my glasses onto the side table and pretended to be asleep. No matter who it was – unless it was Ron and Hermione coming to check up on me – I didn't really want to be fussed over. To my relief, it wasn't any of the younger students trying to be helpful.

Instead, it was Malfoy.

“What seems to be the problem, Mr. Malfoy?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

There was a long moment of silence.

“Oh for the love of – He's _sleeping_! So either tell me what's wrong or go away,” Pomfrey insisted acerbically.

There was a soft sound like a sigh of frustration and defeat. “My arm is broken.”

I could hear a rustling, probably of his school robes being moved out of the way to reveal the broken arm.

“Merlin's wart covered back! What _happened_?” Pomfrey demanded, less acerbic and more concerned now.

“What do you _think_?” Malfoy asked a bit petulantly. “I was hexed.”

“But!” Pomfrey protested, sounding like she couldn't believe her eyes. “This is a _very_ dark curse! I'm astonished that anyone in _this_ school knows it!”

There was the sound of muttering and potion bottles rattling.

“Here, something for the pain.”

“No thanks, I already took the most potent potion that can be brewed,” Malfoy declined, and now it made sense why all of his words were coming out just a little slowly. The potion must be making his thoughts a bit fuzzy. “Anything more will just make things worse.”

“Right,” Pomfrey agreed in a no nonsense tone of voice. Then she sighed heavily. “Well – unlike with normal broken bones – this was shattered by a curse, so I need to give you a potion to remove the dark magic. After that, I'll be able to heal you... It won't be pleasant, and it would probably be best to put you to sleep for the duration. However, first...”

I could hear her ushering Malfoy to the bed next to mine. I was in the corner farthest away from the door, so it made sense – for privacy reasons – that he would also be as far away from the door as possible. If he had been subjected to a dark curse, someone could try to sneak in and do it again.

I heard Pomfrey cast a Patronus Charm and then whisper to it. There was a minute of quiet, marred only by more rattling bottles and Malfoy taking his necessary potion, before the door opened again and McGonagall snapped at whoever was with her to go to dinner for now and visit her office later. Then her footsteps resounded with determination as she marched toward us.

***The POV shifts here from Harry to third person ***

“Tell me everything,” she commanded in a tone of voice that would not allow for resistance.

“I was hexed,” Malfoy repeated, but then didn't say anything more.

“That much is obvious, but I need a few more details. Perhaps _who_ hexed you,” McGonagall stated tartly.

“Can't,” Malfoy slurred, sounding half asleep.

McGonagall growled very softly in frustration.

“He's been in here every day with something or other,” Pomfrey informed her with clear anger in her voice. “And the curses just keep getting worse! At this rate, I seriously fear for his safety!”

“I'll see what I can learn about the attack, but _no one_ is talking about any of it,” McGonagall lamented in obvious agitation.

Pomfrey sighed. “Well, he's sleeping now anyway. Maybe he'll feel more like talking in the morning. Now go away, I've got work to do.”

“Right,” McGonagall agreed before promptly leaving the room.

Harry listened to the Mediwitch hum softly to herself as she worked until he fell asleep. A few hours passed in peace. Madam Pomfrey finished her healing, and then went to bed for the night.

Probably close to midnight, Harry reached a state he now – after months if not  _years_ of practice – recognized as the beginning of a nightmare. In this one, Harry was 14 and being held captive by a statue while Voldemort was being resurrected. After he emerged from the cauldron, he walked up to Harry to taunt him, except rather than release him so that they could duel, Voldemort decided to torture him.

Since Harry could now recognize that he was having a nightmare, he practiced a trick that was much like defeating a Boggart; he turned Voldemort into a silly clown. After that, he mocked the Dark Lord to emphasize that the torture wasn't actually hurting Harry. When he had enough of the stupid dream, he shook himself awake.

From prior experience, he knew that if he simply thought about something happier for a while, he'd be able to go back to sleep fairly quickly. As he drifted in a place between sleeping and wakefulness, he heard whimpering. This caught his attention and made him sit up.

The first thing he saw – despite being dark, there was quite a bit of light streaming through the window from the first quarter moon – was that Malfoy had kicked his covers off at some point. He had probably been hot then, but maybe he was cold now. Maybe that was contributing to him having nightmares.

A soft moan prompted Harry to get out of bed. He'd cover Malfoy up, and if that didn't help, he'd rouse the annoying git. In fact, saving him from a nightmare or not, it might be amusing to disturb his sleep. As a sort of mild payback for all the times Malfoy had gotten Harry in trouble.

The moment Harry arrived next to Malfoy's bed, he noticed something... inexplicably fascinating. Malfoy was obviously aroused. Whatever wet dream he was having was enough to leave a large damp patch in Malfoy's pants that were straining to cover a long and rigidly erect shaft.

Harry's mouth went completely dry. He swayed slightly as if he was a snake watching a professional charmer. All coherent thought fled Harry as he stared.

Suddenly, he bit his lip to hold back an incredulous gasp when he realized that he had reached out and unbuttoned the one thing keeping that beautiful shaft from escaping its soft silken prison. Malfoy moaned almost happily when Harry used a finger to stroke that incredibly smooth and velvety shaft.

That was when Harry went utterly insane and lost all rational thought. The next thing he knew, he was sucking on that shaft as if it held the key to all the secrets of life. Malfoy was either still asleep and thinking he was having the best wet dream of his life, or he was half awake and not about to protest. Harry couldn't quite decide which it was. All he knew was that Malfoy was making obscene noises that did strange things to him.

He would be quite willing to spend the rest of his life figuring out just exactly what noises could come out of that mouth. That soft and plump mouth that looked so very luscious even as it often uttered the cruelest things. In a posh accent that Harry couldn't help but remember, which sent a shiver down his spine. Part of him wanted to kiss those lips as they whispered the filthiest things, but the rest of him wanted to keep on doing exactly what he was.

Harry didn't have a lot of experience at giving oral – just a bit from some random muggles in a delightful club one night – but he more than made up for that with enthusiasm and sheer enjoyment of what he was doing. Little moans of happiness kept escaping him, making him sound a bit like a cat that was trying to purr but kept getting interrupted.

Eventually, Malfoy erupted like a volcano into Harry's mouth. The groan of sheer bliss Malfoy made as Harry sucked down every drop was like music to Harry's ears. He immediately wanted to do it all over again, but since that wasn't very likely, Harry pulled back and wiped the corner of his mouth. Then he stood there hesitantly. Awkwardly.  _What now_ ?

Within a minute or two, Malfoy's breathing deepened and he rolled onto his side. Harry realized that with the healing spells keeping him asleep, it was about 95% likely that Malfoy wouldn't ever know that anything more than a good dream had just happened. With a strangely disappointed sigh, Harry picked up the blanket that had been kicked onto the floor and covered the inexplicably endearing prat with it.

Then Harry trudged back to his bed, feeling like the lowest bastard who ever lived. Not only did he molest someone in their sleep, but it had been someone who would probably hex him before letting anything like that happen. Harry summoned a mild sleeping potion to help himself get back to sleep, downed it, and then let his mind go blank.

In the morning, he opened his eyes to find Malfoy scrutinizing him as if trying to figure out all the mysteries of the universe. Harry couldn't help but blush and look away as he reached for his glasses.

“Something I can help you with?” Harry asked gruffly.

“You know, I thought it was a dream until I woke up and found my button undone and evidence to the contrary,” Malfoy murmured, still looking as if he wasn't quite sure what to think of Harry.

Harry's face got the reddest it had probably ever been. “Er... I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure you don't,” Malfoy muttered sarcastically. “Which is why you look like an overcooked lobster and can't look me in the eye.”

“I – er – alright fine!” Harry let out a heavy sigh. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.”

Malfoy smirked rather merrily. “Believe me, I didn't mind. In fact, you can do that whenever you like. I'm just a tad bit curious as to  _why_ ...”

Harry felt like burying his face in his blanket, but forced himself to take a deep breath instead. “Er... Well... I just... I saw it and I couldn't stop myself...”

“Ah,” Malfoy murmured, sounding somewhat disappointed. He started to walk back to his designated bed, holding up his newly healed arm for his own inspection as he went.

“Er, ah, erm, eh...” Harry tried to speak, but couldn't seem to form words. 

Malfoy looked at Harry over his shoulder with a curious frown.

Harry finally spit out what he wanted to say. “I don't think it's right for people to hex you like that!”

Malfoy sat on the edge of his bed and glared at Harry. “Well, I'll be sure to tell them  _you_ said so. Maybe that'll make them – no wait. I'm pretty sure they won't care.”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his bedraggled and slightly sweaty hair. “Well, maybe if  _I_ actually told them to stop.”

Malfoy's glare got even more heated. “I'm  _not_ going to be the Hufflepuff that tattles!”

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered: “Stubborn, prideful, idiot arsehole.”

“Then we have that in common, apparently,” Malfoy ground out as he lay down and covered himself with his blanket. 

Harry noticed that Malfoy was dressed again, and wondered when he had gotten undressed. Obviously he had at some point during the night, otherwise Harry wouldn't have been able to molest him. He sighed and pressed a hand to his head, wondering what he had been thinking. The only answer that made any sense was that he hadn't been thinking. At all.

Slowly, a plan to make up for his transgression formed in his mind. As he was thinking, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her room, took inventory of her supplies, and then opened the doors for the day. As if they had been leaning against the doors while waiting, a group of girls practically fell into the room. They caught themselves and ignored the way Pomfrey rolled her eyes at them.

“Harry!” They all purred in sympathy. There was at least a baker's dozen of them and they surrounded Harry's bed like a pack of wolves. 

“I brought you a cinnamon roll.”

“I brought you some juice.”

“I brought you chocolate from Honeydukes.”

There was soon a decent sized pile of goodies on Harry's lap. The girl who had accidentally deboned his arm clutched it reverently as he grabbed his wand with his other hand.

“I'm so sorry! I felt so awful all night that I couldn't even sleep!” She gushed dramatically as Harry cast a spell over his presents to detect poisons, love potions, or anything else that Harry wouldn't want to eat.

“Er, it's okay. It's not the first time it happened,” Harry assured her. Finding nothing unauthorized in his food, he picked up the plate holding a bacon sandwich and took a bite. “Thanks for this.”

They all hastily assured him that it was their pleasure to bring him anything he could possibly want.

“You know what I really want?” Harry asked in a soft and solemn tone of voice.

“What?” They all asked, breathless with anticipation. They even leaned forward slightly so that they didn't miss a word.

“A bit of privacy so that I can get dressed,” Harry stated gently. “Do you think you could all go to breakfast or something? I'll be out of hospital in a few minutes and then I have to get to class.”

“Oh,” they all murmured in disappointment, looking positively crestfallen. “Yeah...”

“Thanks again for bringing me all this. I appreciate it,” Harry informed them with a small but genuine smile.

“You're welcome!” They all assured him with grins. Then they left him alone. He sighed in relief the moment they were gone.

“Hey Malfoy, you hungry? I've got more here than I could possibly eat, and don't worry, I checked it for poison or love potions. It's clean, but you could always check it again.”

Malfoy was quiet for a moment, long enough that Harry wondered if he had fallen back asleep. Harry looked over to find Malfoy giving him a strange look. It looked like he couldn't believe that Harry was talking to him. Then he cleared his throat. “Er, yeah, I could eat.”

Harry levitated everything he didn't plan to eat over to Malfoy's bed. “Take whatever you want. The rest is probably just going to get thrown out anyway.”

“You really think that anyone in your pathetic fan club would _poison_ you?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe not poison, but they tend to slip other things in what they give me. The first time it happened, Ron ate the chocolate given to me and thought for sure that he was in love with Romilda Vane. He didn't even know who she was, but he swore up and down that she was the best thing since magic was discovered.”

Malfoy smirked. “That might have been entertaining to witness.”

Harry shrugged since it had been a bit funny until Ron drank poisoned wine and nearly died. It's really a good thing that Harry had such highly honed instincts when it came to saving people. It was surprising how often following his gut had gotten him out of trouble.

After finishing his bacon sandwich, Harry slipped out of bed and stretched his arms high above his head. The faded black tee shirt he wore that bore the logo for the world famous angsty band called Darkstar inadvertently bared his lower abdomen. Lowering his arms, Harry twisted side to side and then shook out his arm to make sure that it was working properly now that it had bones again.

Finally, he reached under the bed and grabbed his bag. After rummaging around for a bit, Harry pulled out a newer pair of black jeans that Hermione had insisted he buy because they did fabulous things for his arse. The only problem he had with them was that his pants bunched up uncomfortably when he pulled them on; so, he subtly magicked his pants into his bag right before he zipped up – taking great care to ensure that he didn't accidentally catch anything he didn't want in the zipper.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Malfoy was watching him with interest. From that moment on, it took a great deal of effort to  _not_ look over at the normally irritating git. Instead, Harry focused on locating the shirt he planned to wear. It was a basic blue button up shirt that looked pretty good on him. Once he found it, he set it aside and pulled his tee shirt off.

“I've been meaning to ask, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey startled him the moment his shirt was off. He hadn't realized that she was so close to him, obviously having come to check up on him since he was getting ready to leave. “That scar on your chest; how did you get it and would you like me to try to heal it?”

Harry pointed to the circular burn in the center of his chest. “This? I got this when I was wearing one of Voldemort's Horcruxes and he was close to capturing me. The locket started to burn me and Hermione had to use a powerful severing charm to get it off me. Of course, I was delirious from Nagini's bite,” he gestured to a pair of faint scars on his arm. “So I didn't really feel it burn. I'm not sure you  _can_ heal it.”

“I can certainly try,” Pomfrey stated firmly. She took Harry's shoulders in her hands and forced him to sit on the bed again. Scrunching up her face for just a moment in concentration, she cast a healing spell on the scar. Then she took a few even breaths as it did it's work. “Out of curiosity, when did Nagini bite you?”

“When I was on the run and in hiding, I went to Godric's Hallow for Christmas to visit my parents' grave. Bathilda Bagshot possibly had something we needed, so when she beckoned us to follow her, Hermione and I did. Neither of us was really thinking clearly that night because we didn't fully question why the witch knew it was us even though we were Polyjuiced and under my invisibility cloak. Turns out that Nagini was inside Bathilda Bagshot, and the moment she got me alone, she called for Voldemort, biting me to prevent me from leaving. I called out to Hermione that Voldemort was coming and she got to me and blasted the snake before Apparating us to safety and fixing me up.”

“That girl deserves a medal!” Pomfrey exclaimed, and then hissed in displeasure. “This scar is resisting me.”

Harry shrugged. “It's alright. I'm used to it.”

Pomfrey sighed sadly and looked at her hands. “All this magic and I can't fix everything...”

Harry held out his right arm. “Nagini bite marks, faint scars from the basilisk,  _I must not tell lies_ ...” He switched to his left arm. “The scar from when Wormtail took my blood to resurrect Voldemort, the scar from when Inferi dropped me onto some jagged rocks just hours before Dumbledore died; this burn. My forehead... All these scars are a part of me. I'm not entirely sure I would get rid of them even if I could.”

“Inferi dropped you?!” Pomfrey blurted out in astonishment.

“Er... yeah...” Harry confirmed, looking away. “But I don't want to talk about that. It was one of the worst days of my life.”

“I can imagine,” Pomfrey murmured in a comforting tone. She patted Harry on the arm. “Alright then, you can go if you like.”

With a nod, Harry grabbed his shirt again and pulled it on, slipping his arms through the holes before buttoning it up. As he did so, Pomfrey glared at one of the scars on his left arm and muttered something about Inferi under her breath. Harry sighed in defeat.

“Alright fine. Dumbledore brought me to a cave that he _thought_ held this Horcrux,” Harry pointed to the burn on his chest. “And we had to cross to the middle of a lake full of Inferi. They stayed quietly under the water while we... did... what we had to do to get the locket.” Harry felt his eyes go unfocused and could hear his voice sound a bit far away as he remembered the terrible way Dumbledore sounded as he drank that unknown Emerald Potion.

Clearing his throat, he continued. “Then Dumbledore needed water. I thought he was possibly dying... but no matter how hard I tried, none of what I conjured would stay, so in desperation, I took water from the lake. Just after I splashed the water onto Dumbledore, an army of Inferi swarmed out of the lake and grabbed me. I was so panicked that I cast every spell I could think of  _except_ the fire that would have actually helped. Thankfully, the water revived Dumbledore a bit and he created a wall of fire that protected us and scared the Inferi into dropping me.”

Harry shrugged again. “Then we escaped the cave, I Apparated us to Hogsmeade, the Dark Mark was hovering over Hogwarts, and I watched helplessly as Dumbledore... died...”

This did not distract the Mediwitch from what she felt was the main point of the story. “Dumbledore  _knowingly_ brought you into a cave full of Inferi?! If the man wasn't dead, I'd give him a piece of my mind! Endangering a student like that!”

Harry chuckled as he slipped out of bed. “Nah, I was actually much safer with him in a cave full of Inferi than I was the whole year after that, so don't get too mad at him.”

Madam Pomfrey harrumphed but didn't say anything else.

Harry was utterly fond of her after all these years of her patching him up, so he gave her a tiny peck on the cheek. “Thanks for regrowing all the bones in my arm. Again.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “ _Try_ not to need me for anything else for at least a week!”

“I make no promises!” Harry stated cheekily, and then strode out of the hospital wing. As he walked, he rummaged through his bag. The _moment_ he was out the door, he stepped to the side, pulled his invisibility cloak on, and stepped back inside.

“You're looking good as new as well, Mr. Malfoy. I'd normally let you go, but I think I'm going to confine you to hospital until the culprits are caught and punished,” Pomfrey announced.

Malfoy snorted. “I'll be here the rest of the year then.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed gravely and rubbed her temples. “Fine, if you must leave, go. Just  _please_ try to avoid any new hexes for –” 

“I _always_ try to avoid them!” Malfoy growled. Since he didn't have anything to grab, he simply slid out of bed and marched toward the exit.

“I'm just worried about you!” Pomfrey called after him.

He stopped and slowly pivoted to look at her. “Thanks...” After that, he finished walking away at a much more sedate pace.

Harry followed him. Malfoy got only a dozen or so feet down the hall before he stopped and looked around very carefully. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he rubbed his arms as if warding off a chill, and then shook his head. A moment later, he was walking very fast towards the dungeons.

He looked around and over his shoulder several times. His pace picked up until he was nearly jogging, but then he got close to the Slytherin Dungeon and stopped short. Harry watched him look around for a place to hide, and then sigh when he realized that the nearest alcove was too far away.

“Well well, Malfoy,” a boy Harry didn't recognize sneered unpleasantly. “I wasn't sure that you'd be let out of hospital so soon.”

A half dozen Slytherins spread out to block Malfoy's path. They looked to be between Fourth and Seventh Years. Malfoy took a deep breath and held it for a moment, his wand in his hand – held at the ready.

“They never should have let you come back! No one wants you here! You're a traitor to our House and an enemy to all the others!”

Rather than say anything, Malfoy cast a nonverbal shield. Which turned out to be very prudent as his housemates all cast various hexes on him. His shield was powerful and held no matter how many times they assaulted it.

“You're all being very stupid, attacking me out here where anyone could happen upon us. McGonagall is determined to find out who is responsible for my daily trips to the Hospital Wing, and if she catches wind of this...” Malfoy pointed out.

“If you go blabbing to her, no respectable Slytherin will ever do business with you again!”

“ _Of course_ I'm not going to tattle!” Malfoy growled fiercely. “I would have done so long ago if I was going to! All I'm saying is that we're not exactly in private here. Someone could see us.”

He had to quickly recast his shield as the repeated and varied hexes started to crack it.

Harry felt a sense of power overcome him. Or maybe it was rage. Either way, it felt a lot like the time he conjured his first fully formed Patronus and fended off about a hundred Dementors at once.

Slowly, he edged his way around the corridor until he had a clear view of the entire group of Slytherins. Without a word, Harry aimed his wand at the group and cast a Levicorpus over all of them. They let out exclamations of surprise and fear as they raised into the air and hung upside down.

“What the –”

“Malfoy, what did you _do_?”

“I didn't do anything,” Malfoy denied, looking torn between concern and amusement. Amusement won out. “Looks like I'll be able to get my books for class after all.”

“Let us down!” A tiny brunette witch screeched indignantly.

“Can't,” Malfoy stated with a shrug. “I don't know how.” 

After that, he put his hands in his pockets – still holding his wand in case he needed to defend himself – and hummed very softly as he walked away. Harry followed him into the Slytherin Dungeon, across the common room, and into his small dorm. One had been added just for Malfoy because he was the only Slytherin who had come back for an Eighth Year. Harry was willing to bet that he  _needed_ his own room considering that apparently his own housemates were the ones hexing him on a daily basis.

The moment the door was closed, Malfoy cast at least three different locking spells to make absolutely certain that no one was going to come in without permission. Then he cast a silencing spell, making Harry wonder what he planned to do. If it was wanking, Harry hoped he'd have the decency to let Malfoy know he was watching, but after what happened last night, Harry suspected that he'd just stand there watching like a pervert.

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy reached out a hand in Harry's general direction and waved it around until he caught hold of the invisibility cloak. He pulled it off very slowly, almost as if he expected to find someone else completely. Such as an enemy. But his expression held no surprise whatsoever to find Harry.

“You know,” Malfoy drawled in his posh accent. “You are literally the only one who has ever come to my rescue. I'd _like_ to snarl and insist that I had the situation handled, but history has proven that they end up wearing me down until one of them slips a curse around my defenses.”

Malfoy looked at the cloak in his hands, stroking it reverently. “I've tried Disillusionment Charms, but they keep an eye out for the telltale wavering and usually find me.”

Before Harry could give into the insane urge to offer to let Malfoy borrow his cloak, the rather appealing blond draped the cloak over the back of a chair and dropped to his knees. His next move startled Harry so much that he took an involuntary step back; Malfoy unzipped Harry's tight black jeans – holding onto Harry's hips so that he couldn't back away even more.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked in a whisper because it seemed very suspiciously like Malfoy planned to suck him off. Harry couldn't quite decide whether to protest or not. Especially since all it took was the lightest of touches for Harry's shaft to leap to attention.

“I would think that should be obvious,” Malfoy whispered in return before covering Harry's shaft with his mouth.

“But why?” Harry asked, sounding almost desperate.

Malfoy looked up and pierced Harry with his steely gray eyes for a long second before rolling his eyes and pointedly  _not_ answering the question. Instead, he focused on his task until Harry practically melted into a puddle. His hands clutched Malfoy's silky fine hair in an attempt to maintain an upright position. His legs wobbled and shook, and then a strangled gasp escaped his lips as he orgasmed into Malfoy's hot and wonderful mouth.

“Been a while?” Malfoy asked with an amused smirk as Harry collapsed into the nearest chair.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted softly. He _wasn't_ willing to admit that he had a little experience giving but not getting. At the time, getting wasn't the point. The point had been to figure out just exactly how attracted to blokes Harry was. Turns out, the answer was equally. There was a reason he half lusted over _all_ the Quidditch players he saw... Well, all the decently attractive ones of both genders.

Malfoy seemingly changed the subject. “I've decided that I'm not going to go to class today after all. At least not until after lunch.”

“Er, why not?” Harry asked, and then flushed when he realized that he was still hanging out of his jeans. As he went to put himself away, Malfoy grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Because I'm going to be busy shagging you,” Malfoy stated as if this was a fact that had been written in stone for a thousand years.

“Oh,” Harry said. His first thought was that this was a very good reason to miss class. Then his brain fully decoded the sentence and he flushed even redder as he looked away. “Er, wait... what?”

Malfoy bent over slightly so that he was eye to eye with Harry – one hand forcing Harry to look at him. “I'm going to be shagging you.” To prove his point, he pulled Harry to his feet and dragged him to the rather small bed that was the focal point of the room. As they went, Malfoy used his wand to magic Harry's clothes off.

Harry felt extremely awkward to be naked so abruptly, but he didn't really have time to think about this as Malfoy pushed him onto the bed. Another nonverbal spell had Malfoy naked a moment later, which he followed up with climbing on top of Harry. There was no kissing – as Harry might have expected had he had a chance to think about it. Instead, Malfoy put his mouth to better uses; such as casting lubrication spells and other spells to help his fingers prepare Harry.

Harry moaned and squirmed as Malfoy found and rubbed a spot inside Harry that seemed to light a fire across his entire body. It completely distracted him from the fact that Malfoy was stretching him open and preparing to enter him. Had Harry really given it any thought, he might have assumed that this would be the other way around.

Harry took a deep breath and then surrendered his trust to Draco. The two of them had a long history of not trusting one another, but they also had a history of saving each other, so... So perhaps it wasn't all that surprising that they had reached this point.

By the time that Draco decided that Harry was as ready as he was going to get – Harry was quivering and whimpering from the pleasure at this point – Draco was so turned on that he nearly spilled his load just from  _watching_ Harry. He paused a moment to get himself under control, but wasn't sure it helped much.

“This will probably be quick,” he warned as he lined his oiled up shaft with Harry's hole.

“Quick is good,” Harry stated breathlessly. He knew from the time that he lost his virginity (during his experimentation with a woman at the club) that it was actually pretty hard to last long when it all felt so damn good. For example, he'd already orgasmed once not too long ago, and already felt like it wouldn't take much more than a strong wind blowing across his shaft to make him do it again.

He was proven right less than two minutes later when Draco managed to hit not only that spot that felt like it triggered volcanic eruptions in Harry's body, but  _also_ brushed his abdomen across Harry's shaft. It shouldn't have been enough, but it was. Harry choked back a squeal and dug his fingers into Draco's back as the whole world spun and a hot mess squirted out between them.

Draco sounded like someone was strangling him for a moment, his thrusts becoming wild and jerky. His fingers dug into Harry's hips so hard that they were probably going to leave bruises. Best of all, in Harry's opinion, was a hot moistness that flooded him, soothing his overly sensitive nerves.

The two of them collapsed into a pile – feeling a bit like they were made out of gelatin – to rest and recover from their very pleasurable ordeal. It surprised Harry to realize that he didn't mind one bit that Draco was laying on top of him. Not even when the snarky git shifted and got more comfortable – and thus heavier somehow.

All too soon, it became apparent that neither of them was going to be able to drift off for a well-deserved nap. This made sense in that they had both slept quite a bit in the Hospital Wing. On the other hand, it didn't seem like either of them could gather up the energy to move. Until enough time had passed that Harry's stomach growled.

This was when he realized that he had just spent the last two hours – at the very least – simply laying in silence with Draco on top of him. Both awake but not willing to move. It was strange, to be sure.

“Er...” Harry began awkwardly. “Do you think it's time for lunch yet?”

Draco snorted in amusement. “Typical Gryffindor! A Slytherin would have asked what he gets in return for letting me shag him.”

Harry shrugged. “I already know what.”

“You do?” Draco asked in confused surprise.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with another shrug. “I get to shag you in return at some other time.”

“Ah,” Draco stated with a tone of enlightenment. “Of course, also a Gryffindor trait. One I'm not adverse to.”

“So... Lunch?” Harry reiterated.

Malfoy moved as little as possible while he patted around the bed until he located his wand and cast a Tempus, which confirmed that lunch would be starting in about twenty minutes. Harry noticed that it also meant that they were both supposed to be in class at the moment. He chuckled softly and rolled his eyes.

“I guess you'll think this is also disgustingly Gryffindor, but I'm not going to wear my cloak as we walk out of here together and go sit at the Slytherin table,” Harry informed Draco.

Draco propped himself on his elbows so that he could peer down at Harry intently. “ _Why_ would you do that?”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I  _just_ said I'm a Gryffindor, remember?”

“And that's it? You don't expect anything in return?” Draco asked skeptically.

“Nothing,” Harry confirmed, then amended. “Well, nothing from you. I expect that my presence will make others think twice before trying to attack you.”

Draco snorted in amusement. “Not likely, Potter. Try to remember that most Slytherins don't like you.”

Harry chuckled. “I wonder what it says about me that I'm rather glad they don't.”

“What? You mean you don't want _more_ people in your fan club?” Draco asked in an acerbic way that made it hard for Harry to figure out if he was being sarcastic or serious.

He decided to reply as if Draco was being serious. “No. The whole fan club thing makes me uncomfortable. I've had enough of fame, thank you very much. Why do you think I don't give any thought to a career as a professional Quidditch player?”

“Huh...” Draco sounded like he was actually thinking this over. “I never actually thought about that before, but I suppose that it makes some sense – now that I know you don't actually like fame. _Why_ don't you like fame?”

Harry gave Draco a flat look. “If you were famous for what I am, would  _you_ really like it?”

Draco looked away and grumbled: “Better than being  _infamous_ for what I am.” He then rolled off Harry and cast a cleansing spell on himself before getting up. “We should get dressed if you're serious about going to lunch together.”

Harry was strangely disappointed that they weren't still laying naked together, but suppressed the urge to yank Draco back into bed. His stomach growled again to remind him that yes, he was still hungry. Somewhat reluctantly, Harry got up, cast a cleansing spell, and then got dressed.

“So, er...” Draco purposely bent to grab his bag so that Harry couldn't see the look of honest interest on his face. “Why don't you wear underwear?”

Harry laughed. “It's only these jeans – they're too tight and so my pants don't fit. I wear underwear with everything else.”

_I'll have to keep that in mind_ , Draco thought with a smirk, pressing his lips together so that he didn't say it out loud. They both finished fixing their appearance. Well, more Draco than Harry, who never really cared what he looked like.

The good thing about skipping class – Draco decided as they walked out of the Slytherin common room – aside from the obvious and very enjoyable shagging, was that there really wasn't anyone to see them. Just a couple of students who had a free period. Which meant that they were Sixth or Seventh years and probably guessed what the two of them had been doing. Unless they assumed that the two had been fighting until they grew too exhausted to keep going and were now taking a break to eat lunch and regain their energy.

Draco subtly glanced at Harry, hoping that the assumption was true, in a way. Harry had mentioned shagging again later, but he hadn't specified if that meant after lunch, or some other day. Looking to the floor as he walked, Draco decided that shagging as much as possible as quickly as possible would probably be for the best, since it was highly likely that their temporary truce – or whatever this was – would end sooner rather than later.

As they approached the group of Slytherins hanging upside down in the corridor, they heard Slughorn talking to them. “I'm sorry, but I've tried everything I know. Looks like you might actually have to tell me who cast this spell so that I can persuade them to remove it.”

The Slytherins all growled in frustration, because if  _they_ tattled, chances were very high that the rest of Slytherin house would make their lives miserable. It simply wasn't acceptable to rat out a housemate – not even a traitor.

Harry coughed to cover a snicker. “Er, Professor?”

“Harry my boy!” Slughorn cried out in delight.

“I think I might be able to help,” Harry informed him.

“Is that so? Well of course someone as powerful as you would know the counter spell!” Slughorn beamed with pride, as if Harry was his favorite son.

Harry purposely took a moment to control the urge to grin. “Yes, the counter spell is actually a confession. They simply need to tell McGonagall exactly what it was they were doing, and then the spell will end.”

Gasps that made the group sound like they were being strangled rang out. Slughorn frowned and looked up at them. He suddenly looked rather suspicious.

“And what is it you all were doing?” The often smarmy sounding Professor asked.

Most of the group sputtered various protests, such as: “Nothing!” or: “What makes you think  _we_ were doing something?!” But one – the youngest girl, who was looking alarmingly purple by this point – gasped out: “I attacked Draco Malfoy!”

Harry subtly and nonverbally cast Liberacorpus on her so that she fell to the ground rather abruptly.

Slughorn looked positively gobsmacked. “Is that so, young lady?”

“Yes!” She sobbed, stroking the ground as if so happy to be on it that she never planned to get up again. “I felt like he should be punished for betraying our house!”

“Betraying it how?” Slughorn asked, still highly confused.

“By defecting...” she muttered so softly that Harry was surprised any of them heard her.

“Oh my dear girl,” Slughorn clucked in sympathy. “I've been a Slytherin my whole life – and the Head of Slytherin house on more than one occasion for more years than you've been alive. If any of us has the ability to define what is a betrayal of our great House, it's me. I can assure you that young Malfoy did _not_ betray us!”

“Do you _really_ want to be living under Voldemort's rule?” Harry added rather pointedly.

The girl stopped crying but didn't answer. The silence was almost deafening for one moment before one of the boys growled and spat out: “I attacked Malfoy!” He wrapped his arms around his head, but still fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

It seemed like the boy's confession triggered the others' because they followed him almost in unison. When they were all on the floor, Slughorn glared at them and tapped his cheek in thought. Part of him wanted to keep the matter private and part of him wanted to make an example out of them.

“Twenty points from each of you, I should think, and detention for the next three Saturdays,” he finally announced. “And if I hear of this happening again, I'll recommend expulsion to the Headmistress.”

Harry leaned over and whispered in Draco's ear. “Are they the only ones?”

Draco glared at Harry. “I am  _not_ a tattletale!”

“Right, so that's a no,” Harry stated with a flat look. He couldn't exactly blame Draco since no one in Gryffindor was likely to tattle either, but it was a bit frustrating considering the magnitude of trouble Draco was hounded by. He grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him away. “Well I'm still hungry – practically _starving_ now – so we're going to the great hall before anything _else_ can happen!”

“I can walk on my own, Potter,” Draco grumbled even as he didn't try to pull free. Slughorn and the pile of Slytherins watched them leave with varying degrees of astonishment.

“I know you can, but the problem is that you're not walking fast enough,” Harry stated, still dragging Draco along.

“You're wrinkling my robes!”

“Oh shut it, Malfoy, before I hex your mouth shut!” 

Draco snorted. “That wouldn't do you any good, I could simply cast a nonverbal spell to trip you up.”

Harry sighed. “Can't you just stop being such a poncy bastard long enough to get something to eat? We can duel each other when I'm full.”

“ _I'm_ not the one manhandling me, Potter, so who exactly is the bastard? I'd say _arrogant_ bastard in your case,” Draco sneered.

“Language, gentlemen!” Slughorn called after them. “Five points from each of you.”

“Sorry Professor!” Harry called back in a tone that suggested that he might not actually be sorry.

“I make no apologies,” Draco stated snidely. “After all, you deserved it.”

“So did you!” Harry insisted, glad that they were far enough from Slughorn that he shouldn't be able to hear them if they started swearing at each other again.

“I'll have you know that what you're implying is impossible since there hasn't been a Malfoy born out of wedlock in centuries!”

Harry rolled his eyes and bit his tongue to stop from saying anything. He had a feeling that it didn't matter what he said, there'd be no winning an argument with Draco. Thankfully, he could see the great hall from here.

Since lunch was  _just_ starting to be served, there weren't too many students in the hall yet. Harry hoped that if they were quick, they might be able to finish eating and leave before the hall really filled up. Then he changed his mind and decided that the more people that saw him sitting with Draco, the better. At least when it came to them thinking twice about hexing the infuriating git.

“So, am I supposed to claim that we're friends now?” Draco asked with a look that suggested that he might be sick.

“Of course not!” Harry exclaimed, feeling his stomach give a funny twist at the habitual denial. “I'm just acting as your bodyguard until I feel that you're not likely to be hexed again.”

Draco gave him a look of sheer disbelief. “So you're planning to move in with me for the rest of my life then?”

Harry huffed a laugh. “Let's hope not!”

Draco harrumphed softly but didn't say anything as he filled his plate and poured tea into a rather delicate cup, adding cream but nothing else. Harry also filled his plate but opted for pumpkin juice instead of tea. The two ate in relative silence. Until Draco snickered softly.

“What?” Harry wondered curiously.

“Your weasel just noticed that you're sitting here,” Draco murmured. He had been covertly watching the Gryffindor table from the moment the other two thirds of the Golden Trio sat down about twenty minutes ago, and neither of them had looked this way even once. Then they must have realized that Harry should have joined them by now, because they both started looking around, which lead to Ron spotting Harry sitting next to Draco, promptly making him look rather green.

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed in a tone of a minor epiphany, as if he just remembered something. He pulled a piece of paper out of his bag – which Draco was interested to note that his bag was a small thing that fit in his back pocket. A moment later, a muggle pen emerged from the bag, which Harry used to write a note on the paper.

_Ron, sorry to surprise you, but I learned that Malfoy needs a bodyguard at the moment, and since no one else will, I'm going to protect him. Harry – P.S. Please reassure Hermione that my arm is fine._

Harry cast a charm to turn the paper into a mini plane which then flew over to Ron. Ron caught it with a curious expression which turned to mild confusion as he read the note. Slowly, he nodded and sort of tilted his head to the side, as if thinking:  _Yep, that sounds like Harry_ . Hermione read the note and nodded in a way that made Harry wonder if she had already figured it out.

After lunch, Harry decided that it was lucky that the Eighth Years all had the same classes – unless they weren't taking a particular class. This meant that he didn't have to skip another class in order to guard Draco. Part of him was a bit disappointed that Draco didn't suggest skiving off anyway so that they could go do that shagging that Harry had mentioned, but he figured that Draco probably wasn't all that eager to be the bottom.

Which was strange to think about because Harry had never once considered that he'd  _like_ bottoming – if it ever happened – and he had been pretty sure he would consider topping a hard limit. However, he  _had_ liked it. Enough that he'd probably let Draco do it again. This thought made Harry scrutinize Draco suspiciously from across the classroom.

_I wonder if he cast a Confundus Charm on me..._

Draco felt eyes on him and looked around warily to find Harry half glaring at him. Since this was business as usual, Draco mentally shrugged it off and returned to his work. Even so, he was actually rather curious about what Harry was thinking.

True to his word, Harry stuck with Draco for the rest of the day, even going so far as to walk him all the way back to his room. There was an awkward moment as they both wondered if Draco was going to invite Harry in for a shag, but since the common room was full of students watching them with far too much interest, Draco simply waved to dismiss Harry and shut his door. Harry looked around the common room as if trying to find an enemy just long enough for Draco to cast his locking spells, and then left.

As he walked toward the exit, he made it a point to look at the students that he had cast the Levicorpus on earlier. “Just so you know, I agreed to wait outside,” he pointed at the door to the common room. “For Draco tomorrow when he goes to breakfast. If he's not there at our agreed upon time, I'll assume that one of you attacked him again, and I'll call for Slughorn to let me in. He loves me, so he will, I hope you realize. Then I'll incarcerate all six of you and levitate you to the Headmistress, whether you did anything or not. I think she'd be interested in a chat, don't you?”

A student who  _wasn't_ one of the culprits looked curious more than anything. “Why would  _you_ protect Malfoy?”

Harry stopped and turned to look at the boy who was likely a Seventh Year, and so someone who had been around for most of Harry and Draco's time at Hogwarts. It probably made no sense to the older students who had witnessed their animosity in the past. It just barely made sense to Harry!

“Because he doesn't deserve to be hexed like this. He was just a kid doing what he thought he had to – just like I was a kid doing what I thought _I_ had to. The war's over now and we all need to move on,” Harry insisted before finishing his walk out of the room.

 

***

 

Draco was in the Hospital Wing again. He'd decided that he needed a particular book from the library one night after Harry had dropped him off at his dorm (they confined their shagging to free periods so far), and had gone looking for it. He'd been spotted by a group of younger students from all houses that thought it would be funny to practice their hexes on him.

At first, Draco had been fine. He'd shielded himself perfectly and just waited them out. None of them were casting anything more serious than tickling hexes, so, he didn't think he needed to worry. But then, his shield shattered unexpectedly and a combination of normally harmless hexes hit him, causing him to pass out.

Harry had noticed him in the library on his map. At first, he thought Draco was being stupid but since he was alone and no one seemed to be bothering him, Harry just left him be. It wasn't until Draco hadn't moved for a good twenty minutes that Harry realized something was wrong. He'd rushed to find Draco and carry him to Madam Pomfrey.

Then, when Draco was a little drugged up from healing potions, Harry had insisted that Draco give him the password for his dorm. Draco finally gave in so that Harry would leave him alone and he could go to sleep. After that, Harry went and had a talk with Slughorn, letting the Head of Slytherin House know that he was concerned for Draco and wanted the Slytherin password so that he could check up on him from time to time. Reluctant, Slughorn eventually gave in – also concerned about the most infamous student in his house.

 

***

 

So, now that Harry had the passwords to the dungeon and Draco's dorm, he had decided to go check up on Draco early in the morning. Not so early that no one would be awake, but not quite late enough to be breakfast time yet. Harry figured that he could just take a quick peek to make sure that Draco was sleeping – as opposed to petrified or something – and then he'd wait in the Slytherin common room until Draco was up and ready to go to breakfast.

However, things did not go according to plan.

Under his invisibility cloak, Harry let himself into Draco's room. The corridor outside Draco's dorm was empty, so no one noticed Draco's door seemingly open and close itself. A moment later, Harry was smirking softly at Draco, finding it somewhat adorable that the proud and haughty Slytherin had a small night light. Nothing too bright, just a never ending tea candle sitting on the bedside table.

Without warning, Harry felt a powerful emotion fill him. It wasn't anything so tender as love or protectiveness. No. It was a very _not_ tender emotion. Lust.

As Harry stared at the slumbering Slytherin Prince, he was overwhelmingly consumed by the need to _have_ him. He looked so innocent in his sleep, and it made Harry want to corrupt him. Debauch him. Mess him up and make him fall apart.

Struggling to get these horrible urges under control, Harry did nothing but stand there and stare for a long time. But then Draco hummed softly in response to something in his dream, and Harry lost all reason. He tossed his cloak onto a chair and stepped forward as quietly as possible.

Reaching out, Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair and caressed his cheek. Draco moaned very softly, sounding almost happy. This made Harry's hand roam over the blanket down Draco's arm – he was sleeping on his side facing Harry. When Harry reached Draco's hand (or where he assumed it was under the blanket), he slid his own hand down Draco's backside and gave it quite a few soft caresses.

Draco moaned again and Harry could see a bulge in the front of the blanket that suggested that Draco was now having a pleasant dream. He might even been having one to begin with. Using his other hand, Harry stroked the bulge. Draco responded by lightly grinding his groin into Harry's hand.

Harry groaned softly in longing. He shifted the blanket to Draco's front so that he could get a better feel of those silky pants. To his surprise, Draco wasn't wearing anything. When Harry's warm palm met bare skin, he nearly spunked his pants right then and there.

Taking a deep breath to stave off the inevitable, Harry bunched Draco's blanket up and lifted Draco's hips just a bit as he turned the gorgeous blond onto his stomach on top of the bunched up blanket. This had the effect of propping that cushy arse up for easy access. Harry caressed the soft cheeks, groaning again.

He wasn't the only one! Draco was now moaning and groaning and subtly wiggling his hips back and forth. Harry climbed into bed and got comfortable so that he could pry those glorious cheeks apart and worship the area with his tongue. Draco made a half strangled sound and clutched his sheets in both hands. He also pushed his rear into Harry, encouraging him without words.

Harry continued to lick and probe Draco's tight pucker for a long time. His fingers joined in on the fun, finding a spot that made Draco shake and cry into his pillow. Harry positively _loved_ all the obscene little sounds coming out of Draco's mouth.

Out of nowhere, Harry was consumed by a powerful urge to be _inside_ Draco. That moment! He quickly threw off all his clothes and shifted until he was pressing his hastily lubricated shaft into the well prepared hole, but not inside it yet. He froze as something terrible occurred to him.

“Something wrong?” Draco asked when Harry didn't move for close to half a minute.

“I just realized that I was doing all of this without your permission,” Harry murmured, his voice full of shame. “I'm sorry! I didn't even think to ask! I just saw you, sleeping, and I wanted you beyond all reason!”

Draco huffed a small laugh. “Gryffindor! Do you honestly think I would have let you touch me at all if I didn't want it?”

“But you were asleep!” Harry protested.

“Maybe I was, but I'm not now, Potter, and I'm telling you that if you don't get on with shagging me, I'm going to Crucio you until you lose your mind!” Draco snarled impatiently.

Harry snorted in amusement. “Well, if you're sure.”

“Quite!” Draco stated insistently, purposely rubbing his arse against Harry's shaft.

Harry groaned and nearly lost it right then and there. He had to take a moment to re-lubricate his shaft so he could calm down. Then he pushed into Draco, going slowly until he was buried as deeply as possible. They both moaned from the pleasure.

Then Draco growled softly. “Stop treating me like I'm a porcelain doll, Potter, and pound me into the bed!”

Harry blushed. “Er... Alright...” He was still reeling from the shock that Draco was letting him do this, and to be honest, he didn't really know what he was doing. The time he lost his virginity, he'd gone sort of slow and it had ended fairly quickly. Shifting his position just a bit, Harry chose a pace that he hoped would satisfy Draco's demand for a pounding.

To his relief, his body seemed to know what to do. To his dismay, the end arrived far too soon. _Just_ when Harry felt like he might have figured out how to be good enough to please Draco, he felt his bollocks tighten and his toes curl. He groaned softly as he pumped Draco full, his movements slowing down and becoming erratic.

“Don't stop yet!” Draco ordered. “I'm _almost_ there!”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Harry did his best to comply. Fortunately for him, his hips flexed uncontrollably, making him ram into Draco extra hard, which hit him just right and provoked his orgasm. Harry continued to rock into him lightly for a moment before melting onto his back and panting as he recovered.

Draco chuckled after a few moments. “Well, that was certainly a good way to wake up.” He squirmed. “But get off me now, Potter. I need to go to the loo.”

“Oh, erm, right,” Harry murmured as he rolled to the side, his limp shaft sliding the last little bit from Draco. This made him blush a little as he closed his eyes and remembered how good it had felt. However, strangely, he thought that bottoming might actually be better. So far, Harry had bottomed for all their shagging and hadn't really thought about topping before. Now... He might have to work up the courage to ask Draco for another go at some point to see which one he liked better.

When Draco returned from the loo, he was frowning thoughtfully. “It just occurred to me that we've _both_ forgotten something rather important.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, sitting up and absently rubbing his stomach, which was growling hungrily now.

“We should have done the responsible thing and checked each other for anything that needed to be treated before shagging the first time,” Draco pressed on. Then he shrugged. “I've only been with two people before you and we were all clean, so I suppose that I wasn't thinking about it.”

Harry bit his lip and looked away. “Erm, well, I've only been with one other person and it was only the once. However, I did suck a couple of blokes off, but I never had any sort of symptoms. Madam Pomfrey gave me her usual yearly exam and she never mentioned anything that needed to be treated, so I sort of assumed that I was clean.”

“ _Once_?” Draco asked in surprise.

Harry blushed and refused to look at Draco. “I didn't have a lot of time for things like that. Then – a little after the Final Battle – I went to a club and got drunk and messed around until I'd lost my virginity and sucked a few blokes off, passed out, and woke up naked in an alley, so... it was probably a good thing I didn't have anything important on me...”

“Er... Then how do you know that no one took advantage of you?” Draco asked with a frown of concern.

Harry scrunched up his face in a frown of thought for a moment. “Hmm... Oh, I had Hermione scan me for that and she found no evidence. Huh! She probably scanned me for infections and whatnot at that point. I'm dead certain she would have lectured me if she'd found anything.”

Shrugging, Draco grabbed his wand and cast the detection spells on Harry. “Yeah, you're clean. And here's proof that I am too.” He cast the spells on himself. Then he looked rather speculative. “I'm almost shocked that you went to a club rather than Ginny Weasley.”

It was Harry's turn to shrug. “Well, I suspected that I might be interested in blokes, and so I needed a few blokes to figure that out with.”

“And?” Draco asked even though he felt that – based on their recent shags – the evidence pointed to an obvious conclusion.

Harry finally looked at Draco. A soft smile tugged at his lips. “And I like both. I think I always have since I'd daydream about various Quidditch players of both genders for as long as I can remember.”

Draco chuckled wryly. “It seems we have that in common. I also like both and have fantasized about all my favorite Quidditch players in rather hedonistic ways.”

“Is that so?” Harry asked with a knowing smirk before his stomach growled again.

“Get dressed,” Draco ordered with the air of a Lord talking to a servant. “So that we can go eat breakfast.”

“Alright,” Harry capitulated without argument simply because he felt like he was starving.

“And then, since we both have a free period after lunch, we're going to come back here and do this again,” Draco stated as if this was a fact they had agreed on a long time ago. “It'll be interesting to see if either of us can hold out a bit longer.”

“Er...” Harry flushed, embarrassed that he'd finished so quickly. He bent over to grab his clothes off the floor.

Draco was busy getting dressed as well, so he didn't notice the embarrassed look on Harry's face. “And maybe you should come here to study tonight.”

“Study?” Harry questioned with a confused frown.

“I'm at the top of our class – along with Granger. I always have been, which is why I was made a prefect too, you must know this. So I don't see any reason why we can't study together,” Draco said a bit defensively.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “I just didn't think you'd want me around quite that much.”

Draco smirked his signature smug Malfoy smirk. “You seem willing to let me shag you as much as I want. Or you shagging me. Didn't even protest when I mentioned doing it again after lunch. I figure that I can suffer from your continual presence if it means there'll be _more_ shagging.”

Even though he blushed at that, Harry also grinned. “Oh? I think I like the sound of that.”

“Good!” Draco stated, almost sounding triumphant. “Now hurry up and finish getting dressed before I drag you out of here half naked!”

Harry laughed. “That eager to flaunt me in front of others, Malfoy?”

“Hardly,” Draco drawled dryly. “I'm just that hungry.”

With a grin, Harry pulled on his tee shirt. He was dressed now and it was _Draco_ that was still trying to decide on the right pair of trousers to go with his posh cashmere jumper. Harry was tempted to heckle him, but then decided that it was more interesting to watch the show. Draco caught him ogling and nearly blushed. A minute later, he was dressed and casting spells at his hair to fix it. After that, he was ready to go. His morning skin care routine would just have to wait.

Sounds outside Draco's door suggested that quite a few other Slytherins had chosen that exact moment to head to breakfast as well, but that was only to be expected. Harry took a deep breath and prepared to ignore all the looks he was about to receive. Sure enough, everyone caught sight of him emerging from Draco's room and stopped to stare in astonishment.

One remarkably brave Fifth or Sixth Year cleared his throat and called out: “Oi Malfoy! Are you _dating_ a Gryffindor?”

Draco rolled his eyes and gave the boy a light glare. “As if I'd ever date a Gryffindor! You all should know by now that Potter insists on protecting me from random hexes, so why are you staring like that?”

A girl snorted a bit derisively. “Because his hair looks like it's fresh from a shag!”

Draco took a belated look at Harry's appearance. Then he shrugged. “His hair _always_ looks like that.”

Harry ran his hand through his hair, scratching his head a bit and sort of ruffling up the back. He also shrugged. “It does. If I'd shagged as often as my hair looked like this, then I'd probably be the biggest slag in school.”

Surprisingly, a Sixth Year girl smirked at him. “Are you? Because I know quite a few girls that wouldn't mind an opportunity to be added to your list.”

“List?” Harry asked, almost blushing at the implication that girls wanted meaningless sex with him.

Her smirk turned avid and predatory. “Yes, the list of those you call on when you're in the mood for a quick shag in an alcove or the loo.”

“Er...” Harry chuckled just a little awkwardly. “Thanks for the offer, but I'm a bit too busy at the moment to take you up on it.”

She shrugged and sniffed haughtily. “Your loss.”

Conversation over, they all made a mass exodus from the dungeon. Soon enough, they were all seated for breakfast and – strangely enough – Harry felt like he had been sort of accepted by them. Maybe all it took was a few minutes of civil conversation to repair some of the chasm that had built up between Gryffindor and Slytherin over the years. Or maybe the Slytherins secretly liked having a celebrity in their midst. Either way, it was surprisingly normal.

 

***

That afternoon, Draco shagged Harry. That night, they were actually too tired for full on sex, and so simply wanked each other at the same time. The next morning, the sight of Draco sleeping so innocently made Harry lose all thoughts that weren't: _I must have him now!_ He cast all the quick prep spells and oiled up his shaft so that he could press into that divine warmth.

Draco grunted and moaned sleepily, shifting so that Harry had better access. Shamefully, Harry was way too turned on to last more than a minute. To make up for his lack of stamina, after pumping Draco full, Harry shifted until he was sucking on that long and thin shaft that seemed oh so perfect in every way to Harry. Draco cried out happily as he filled Harry's mouth, his hands clutching Harry's wildly messy hair.

When he had calmed down a little, Draco chuckled. “It's official, you can wake me up like that _every_ morning!”

Harry chuckled too, snuggling up to Draco out of necessity since the bed was only so big and not meant for two people. “If you ever happen to wake up before me, you can do as you like to me. I actually have a strange fantasy in which I'm so soundly asleep that I can't be woken up and...” he trailed off with a blush, burying his head in the pillow.

“What?” Draco asked curiously, turning to look at Harry more directly.

“Er...” Harry wasn't sure he wanted to admit to something so shameful.

“ _What_?” Draco probed insistently, dying of curiosity now.

Harry bit his lip for a moment, and then sighed. “Well, while I can't be woken, a load of strangers shag me and basically do whatever they want to me.”

“Huh,” Draco murmured, sounding mildly impressed. “Who knew you were such a kinky bastard, Potter. Although I can understand wanting strangers. I've often wondered what it would be like to move somewhere where no one knew who I was.”

“I wonder that too,” Harry murmured softly. “Somewhere where I could walk around in public and not have to stop and sign autographs.”

“Or avoid hexes,” Draco muttered, suddenly a little grumpy.

“At least it's been a few days since anyone's hexed you,” Harry said, trying to comfort him.

Unexpectedly, Draco smirked. “Having the Savior of the Wizarding World as my personal bodyguard _does_ occasionally come in handy.”

“Prat,” Harry accused affectionately.

Draco shrugged and changed the subject. “We should probably get ready to go to breakfast.”

Harry nodded, smelling himself subtly in order to not let Draco see this. “I should probably take a shower. I sort of smell like, er...”

“Sex?” Draco supplied with an impish grin.

“Yeah...” Harry confirmed with a light blush. “I, erm, I have a change of clothes in my bag, but I'm going to have to stop by Gryffindor Tower at some point today and grab more, unless you don't want me to spend the night again, in which case, I won't need to.

Draco pressed his lips together and looked away to hide what he felt must be a look of vulnerability. “I can't stand admitting this out loud, but I actually feel safer with you in here with me.”

“Alright, then I'll stay,” Harry promised with a small smile.

“About that shower...” Draco murmured as he slipped out of bed. “I suppose it wouldn't be too much to ask for me to wash your back.”

Harry couldn't help but grin at that. “You want us to shower together?”

Draco gave him a funny look. “What would be the point in taking separate showers? We're both completely naked, so it's not like I'll see anything I haven't already seen.”

“I wasn't complaining,” Harry said as he got out of bed and followed Draco into the en suite bathroom. “I just wasn't expecting you letting me invade your space.”

Draco stopped walking and turned to smirk at Harry. “Oh, I'm quite sure you've invaded my space a couple of times already.”

Harry laughed. Then he grinned knowingly. “I think I might actually be ready to invade it again.”

Draco took a good look. “You look like you're only about half ready. If you stop procrastinating, I can wash you up and get you _all_ the way ready.”

Harry felt his breath hitch just a bit. He honestly hadn't expected Draco to be so eager for more sex already. _Merlin and Godric!_ He'd gone from having shagged only once to doing it so many times he'd lost count practically overnight!

It took a few moments for the shower to reach the right temperature, but then they stepped into it and took turns getting wet. Draco scrubbed Harry up with the sort of focus one reserved for working on an important project. Harry had to wonder if Draco had been itching to use his fancy products on the nest of black hair that never obeyed anyone.

After scrubbing Draco up in return, Harry realized that he was fully erect and needed no help in the matter. However, he didn't want to assume that he could just spin Draco around and bugger him dry. Sort of. They _were_ in the shower after all.

Draco solved Harry's problem by probing himself and smirking. “Looks like I have enough lubrication in there from a few minutes ago to make this feasible. Still...” He grabbed a bottle of oil from a shelf outside the shower full of product Harry couldn't even begin to guess what they were all for. He then rubbed some of the oil on Harry's shaft, smiling mysteriously as he did so.

Harry looked down with a slight frown. The oil was tingling just a little and he had no idea if this was supposed to happen.

“You like?” Draco asked, purring the question just enough to make it sound flirty.

“Erm... yeah?” Harry replied uncertainly.

Draco leaned his chest against the back wall of the shower and waved his arse back and forth enticingly. “Go on, see how good it feels inside me.”

Not needing to be told twice, Harry took his shaft in hand and lined it up with Draco's still softened hole. “I _still_ can't believe we're doing this,” he muttered under his breath.”

“That's because you're a moron,” Draco muttered in return. “Now get on with it, Potter!”

Inexplicably happy to be insulted, Harry did as told. This session lasted quite a bit longer than the previous one. Harry felt like he was in heaven as he continually rammed Draco into the wall, the tingling of the oil adding just a little extra something that made it feel even better. Both of them made the most obscene sounds and Harry prayed that no one could hear them, although he was too busy to stop and cast silencing spells.

Draco braced himself against the wall and pushed back into Harry as much as he could as an intense wave of pleasure washed over him. Harry found it interesting how the sensation of Draco rippling on his shaft contrasted with the hot water cascading down his back. Together, the two different feelings combined to give Harry a surprisingly powerful orgasm. He gasped, feeling like he couldn't quite catch his breath as he pumped Draco full.

They rested against the wall for a few long moments. Both sincerely wished that they could go back to bed for a nap, but if they did, they'd miss breakfast and probably their first class. That in and of itself would make everyone think that the two of them had murdered each other. Or shagged themselves to exhaustion – which would be more or less true. Even so, there was no need for the whole school to know it.

Harry blushed and shook his head. _Merlin's sweaty arse! That would be_ _ **mortifying!**_

Both were quiet and lethargic as they got dressed. Draco cast his standard array of spells to dry and style his hair. He then tried to fix Harry's hair, but it barely looked better than usual. Shrugging, they left the dorm. Their strangely comfortable silence lasted until they made it all the way to the Slytherin table and dished up.

“Your weasel is glaring at me,” Draco grumbled before he took a sip of tea.

Harry was still too lethargic and in a good mood to care what anyone thought about anything. He shrugged. “I'll talk to him later.”

“We have Defense Against the Dark Arts today,” Draco remarked, suppressing a yawn with his hand before continuing. “If I'm lucky, we'll be practicing hexes and I'll be able practice my skills on you.”

“It's probably not a good idea for the two of us to have any sort of duel,” Harry muttered, flushing guiltily. “Considering what happened the last time we did that.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I was distraught last time and wasn't quite prepared to defend myself.  _ This _ time, I've had a  _ lot _ of practice and I'm quite looking forward to hexing you into oblivion with the Professor's blessing.”

Harry laughed and had to quickly finish chewing his sausage so that he could swallow it. “You know, a duel actually sounds fun. I'm currently considered undefeated.”

Draco snorted, laughing despite himself. “Oi, defeat  _ one _ Dark Lord and suddenly you're insufferable!”

“Is there another?” Harry asked with a cocky smirk. “I'll defeat him too!”

Draco rolled his eyes and lightly smacked Harry upside the back of his head. “Tosser! Eat your breakfast before we're late for class!”

“And I'm pretty sure I've always been insufferable,” Harry added offhandedly as he selected another sausage to eat.

“And a cocky bastard,” Draco stated, before slipping a forkful of melon in his mouth.

“Better than an arrogant arse,” Harry informed him.

“You say arrogant, I say well bred and full of class.”

Harry laughed. “We'll see if you still claim that after you've lost that duel in D.A.D.A. later.” 

Draco scoffed. “Me lose? Please!”

“We'll see,” Harry murmured, and then laughed. “I can picture you landing flat on your back!”

With a nearly evil smirk, Draco turned to speak quietly enough that only Harry should hear him. “You want me on my back again already?”

Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice. He flushed alarmingly red and looked away from Draco for a moment before taking a breath and daring to flirt back. “Actually, yeah, I do. Got a problem with that, Malfoy?”

“Actually, yeah, I do,” Draco countered just a bit _too_ seriously. “It's _my_ turn to have you on your back.” 

Harry looked away again. This flirting thing might just kill him! A  _ brilliant _ thought occurred to him. “Whichever of us wins that duel gets to have the other on his back.”

Draco grinned. “Now I  _ know _ I'm going to win.”

As it turned out, their agreement was moot. Their D.A.D.A class was more or less a review of things they should know by now. It was all Harry could do not to fall asleep!

Afterwards, Harry led Draco up to Gryffindor Tower while everyone else was at dinner. They'd eat soon enough, Harry just wanted to get his trip to the Tower over while there was no one around to object to Draco being there. It didn't take him long to pack a couple changes of clothes in his bag – not to mention set out his dirty clothes for the elves to wash.

On their way back down to the great hall, they ran across Hermione and Ron. Ron looked like he was forcing himself to be polite, but Hermione seemed genuinely pleased to see them. She gave Harry a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Harry! I hope you haven't forgotten the Eighth Year study session in the Library.”

“Er...” he trailed off awkwardly. “I'm still protecting Malfoy.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “So bring him with. He  _ is _ in Eighth Year, is he not?”

“Er...”

“Are you actually inviting me?” Draco asked in surprise.

She gave him a patient look. “You don't really need an invitation. The study session is meant for all the Eighth Years. You're  _ supposed _ to be there.”

“Then I guess I'll come,” Draco replied quietly.

“Good!” Hermione stated in the tone of glee she only ever used when talking about studying. “See you both then!”

“Not having dinner?” Harry asked in confusion as she and Ron walked away. 

Ron blushed and looked away. “Er, we already ate and now we're... gonna study...”

Harry laughed. “Alright then, have fun studying!”

Ron blushed a little harder and waved bye to Harry as he followed Hermione up the stairs.

“They're not actually going to study, moron,” Draco drawled in his habitually condescending tone. They were already walking down the stairs again.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave him a  _ look _ . “I know that, idiot.”

“Arse.”

“Prick.”

“Gryffindor.”

“Slytherin!”

“Your point?”

Harry rolled his eyes again and hissed in mild frustration before deciding to drop what would likely be a battle he could never win.

Later on, during the study session, Hermione, Draco, and all the Ravenclaws were sitting at one table having a heated discussion on magical theory. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Eighth Years were at a separate table doing their best to focus on their homework. Ron cast a Muffliato around him and Harry.

“So, is ferret face _really_ in enough danger that you have to sleep in his dorm?” Ron asked, actually concerned. He may not like Draco, but he didn't think the git deserved to be continually hexed. The first couple of times, sure, but not after that. That was just excessive.

Harry shrugged. “I suppose he might be safe enough in his room, but considering that the majority of the people hexing him, that I  _ know _ of, are Slytherins... I just think it's best if I am with him at all times until everyone realizes that I won't tolerate bullying.”

“Alright,” Ron agreed without argument. Then he frowned. “What was with all that blushing this morning at breakfast?”

“What?” Harry asked, feeling mildly alarmed.

Ron gave him a look that said:  _ I'm not stupid, you know. _

Harry looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. With the Muffliato in effect, no one could hear him, but if they tried to read his lips... Thankfully, everyone was reading or writing.

Scratching his cheek, Harry wouldn't quite look Ron in the eye. “Alright, fine. I was blushing because we were talking about how we had shagged in the shower this morning and, er,  _ well _ ...”

“ _I knew it!”_ Ron burst out animatedly enough that he drew attention, despite no one being able to understand what he'd said.

Harry raised a brow at him. “You knew we'd shagged in the shower?”

Ron laughed and shook his head. A look around prompted those watching them to mind their own business. “Not that specifically, but it was sort of obvious that you two must have shagged.”

“Obvious how?” Harry asked with a curious frown.

“The blushing, for one, but there was a lack of animosity toward each other. Also, you looked like you were in one of those good moods that generally follows a good shag. In the shower, huh?” Ron asked with a knowing smirk. “I haven't been able to talk Mione into that yet. The showers aren't co-ed after all.”

Harry smiled faintly. “Well, it was in the shower after I woke him up to a shag in bed.”

“Mate, now you're just bragging,” Ron muttered unappreciatively.

Harry laughed, not able to deny that. “He's been surprisingly eager.”

Ron rolled his eyes at that. “Of course his is! Any bloke who's even half attracted to a willing person is going to be eager to shag as much possible!”

“That's probably true,” Harry admitted, feeling a bit depressed all of a sudden.

“Wait...” Ron said in a soft tone of suspicion. “Don't tell me that you actually _like_ Malfoy!”

“I don't know,” Harry replied with a helpless shrug. “Maybe a little?”

“Harry...” Ron murmured a bit sadly. “He's _Malfoy._ He's more than likely just using you – as a bodyguard and as an easy shag. I can understand if you're just using him as an easy shag too – you _did_ go out to a club to lose your virginity for the same reason after all – but don't let yourself get attached to him if you mean nothing to him.”

“I don't think you have to worry about that,” Harry said with a slight shake of his head. “It's Malfoy. I can't imagine getting attached to him.”

Ron gave him a level look that said that Harry was mental for thinking that, but he didn't say anything out loud.

 

***

 

Later that night, Harry and Draco lay curled up in the aftermath of Draco pounding Harry into the bed. It had been so energetic and vigorous that Harry was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. Draco absently drew swirls on Harry's shoulder with a pointer finger.

“So... what were you and Weasley talking about when you were _supposed_ to be studying?”

Harry hummed softly as he tried to gather up the energy to speak. “Mmm... you, actually.”

“I thought as much,” Draco murmured. “Did you tell him that we're, er...”

“Shagging? Yeah,” Harry admitted.

“And he didn't hex me? I thought for sure he would when he found out.”

Harry hummed sleepily again. Draco was tempted to kiss him but refrained. They weren't in the sort of relationship where they kissed. Sighing, he drifted off to sleep.

 

***

 

A couple of weeks later, Harry was bored out of his mind in the library as Draco searched a stack for a particular book. By this point in time, word had spread to the entire school that Harry was protecting Draco, and so, the attacks had more or less stopped. Harry wasn't entirely sure if it was because there was no time in which Harry wasn't with Draco – or if students had lost interest in trying. Either way, Harry had gotten used to being with Draco at all time and had to wonder what would happen if Draco suddenly decided that he no longer needed Harry's protection.

Just as Harry thought he might doze off, a group of Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Year girls entered the library. Harry's first thought was that this seemed like all the girls in the school. His second thought was:  _ Where are all the boys? _ Based on their general quiet chatter, the girls had gotten together to do a bit of inter-house bonding by finding a book on wizarding party spells and learning them together.

Not unexpectedly, they spotted Harry sitting by himself at a small table in front of the aisle Draco was searching. A sort of catlike purring circled the group. Before Harry could come up with an excuse for them to stay away, they surrounded him.

“Hiya Harry.”

“How are you today?”

“Are you busy?”

“Do you want to join us?”

“Erm...” Harry replied hesitantly, looking around at all the girls who were asking him questions so fast that he didn't quite know how to answer any of them. They paused to give him a chance to speak. “Hi... I'm actually busy right now, sorry.”

They all gave him skeptical looks since he didn't have anything with him to make him look busy. Romilda Vane – now a Sixth Year – boldly sat on his lap and stroked his cheek. She sent a knowing smirk to her friend.

“We'll make it worth your while, Harry...” she promised in a soft and sensual voice. Another girl started rubbing his shoulders as a third ran her hands through his hair.

“Erm...” If he was honest with himself, the prospect was highly appealing. Just exactly _what_ would a large group of eager girls do to him?

“Please, Harry?” Romilda begged prettily, getting very close to kissing him. A couple of girls were now on their knees on either side of him, stroking his thighs and hips. Another was groping his chest and pinching his nipples.

“ _AHEM_!” Draco growled loudly, looking a lot like an angry dragon at the moment.

“Shove off, Malfoy!”

“What's your problem?!” A couple of girls told him off rather flippantly.

Draco somehow managed to get close enough to Harry despite the thick ring of girls around him, that he was able to insert his hand between Romilda and Harry's mouths. He actually covered Romilda's mouth and pushed her back a few inches.

“My _problem_ is that that's _my_ boyfriend you're trying to kiss!”

“ _Boyfriend_?!?!” They all – even Harry – exclaimed incredulously.

Draco gave Harry a significant look, one that dared him to deny it.

“When did we decide this?” Harry wondered, more baffled than anything.

“Right when you started sleeping in my bed and shagging me three times a day,” Draco stated, looking like he'd murder Harry if the git tried to deny it.

“Aww!” Harry purred happily, not even thinking about it as he set Romilda on her feet and pushed the other girls away so that he could stand up and grab hold of Draco. He then seized a kiss so demanding and possessive that Draco nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.

Instead, he pushed Harry backwards so that he was leaning over the small table and returned the demanding kiss every bit as possessively. Harry's hands roamed to Draco's arse to kneed those cushy cheeks and grind their groins together. Draco moaned and quite happily returned the grinding. They had completely forgotten that they had an extremely avid audience watching them with bated breath. No one  _ dared _ breathe lest they remind the couple of their presence and ruin the show.

Draco broke off the heavy kiss to push Harry's shirt up and suck on his nipples. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his head into the table as he arched his body into Draco's mouth. His hands were now in Draco's hair and Draco's hands were fumbling to open Harry's trousers.

A voice only vaguely penetrated their lust filled fog. “What's going on here?  _ HARRY?! _ ”

Harry frowned. What was Hermione doing in Draco's room? He cracked open one eye to look around and blushed redder than ever before when he realized that his two best friends were now standing at the front of a circle of girls around him. He unconsciously clutched Draco's hair rather painfully with one hand while slinging his other arm over his eyes.

This caught Draco's attention and he gently removed Harry's hand from his hair before straightening up and trying his best not to blush.

“Aww! What'd'ya have to go and open your big mouth for?” A Fifth Year Gryffindor asked petulantly.

“This is _not_ appropriate behavior for the _library_ ,” Hermione screeched indignantly, glaring at the girl.

“So? They weren't being loud.”

Draco could help but snort in amusement at that. “Yet...”

Harry grinned at him and stole a quick kiss. “Come on,  _ boyfriend _ , it's probably best if we go back to bed for an hour or so.”

Draco smirked rather smugly as the girls softly squealed that Harry had confirmed it. He slipped his hand in Harry's and tilted his head in the direction of the dungeons. His look left no doubt as to what he had in mind.

“Come on, let's race to my room. The loser has to rim the winner,” Draco declared. Ron choked to hear this said so bluntly.

“You're on!” Harry accepted with a grin, bursting into a run and dragging Draco after him.

“Have fun!” Hermione called after them with a blush.

Ron groaned. “Oh great! Now I'm going to have that image stuck in my head!”

“So am I...” the girls all purred pervertedly.

 

***

 

That night, Draco woke while it was still about two or three in the morning. He slipped out of bed to go to the loo, and then came back to find Harry looking adorable as he slept. Suddenly, he could completely understand why Harry said that seeing Draco sleeping made him have to have him. It was like an all consuming need.

Draco quickly stroked himself from half mast to full, then cast cleaning spells on his shaft before rubbing his favorite tingly oil on it. Then he climbed back into bed and pulled the blanket off Harry to expose his naked body. It only took moving one of Harry's legs a little bit to give Draco enough room to kneel between them and press into Harry. Only the fact that Draco had been inside Harry just a few short hours ago made him opt to skip all the normally necessary preparations. Instead, he pushed into Harry slowly but firmly, until he was as deep as he could go. Harry moaned in his sleep, obviously regaining consciousness rather quickly. He cracked open an eye to look up at Draco and give him a faint smile.

This was all the encouragement Draco needed to ram him into the bed. Unlike every time they'd shagged before (except for earlier today), Draco kissed Harry. Then he cast a breath freshening charm on both of them so that he could keep on kissing Harry even as he maintained a steady pace. Harry hummed happily, one of his hands reaching up to tangle his fingers in Draco's hair.

This session morphed into a sort of slow and lazy sex that almost resembled making love. Harry's other hand stroked a long line down Draco's back before cupping his arse. The thought that Draco was somewhat fulfilling Harry's fantasy – of being used while asleep – turned Harry on so much that his orgasm arrived without any further ado. He moaned and clung to Draco, feeling as if the world was spinning around them.

The feel of Harry rippling on Draco's shaft was magical enough to pull an orgasm from him too. He groaned in profound relief as he pumped Harry full, and then sighed happily as he lay on top of Harry. They both drifted off to sleep again, snuggled up and feeling rather blissful.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Somnophilia is a kink I actually have. I didn't even realize it at first. It was my hubby who noticed very early in our marriage that every time he said he was tired, I was suddenly all over him. He said that he exaggerated how tired he was because I'd get even more turned on, lol! Later on, I told him that I loved the idea of him waking me up to sex. *Not* waking me up and then having sex, but me waking up and he's already having sex with me. I wanted to portray that here, but I never quite went that far because I didn't think readers would quite forgive me for that, lol ^_^  
> Plus, it's actually really hard to start having sex with someone *before* they wake up as the shifting into position tends to wake most people up. Shrugs.


End file.
